The shuffle of feet was heard on the bricked steps, and soon a number of figures appeared behind the jars. But on this occasion there was no waiting. The Mexicans commenced to creep between them, while others were hoisted by their comrades and clambered over the top. They were met with a fusillade of bricks, which hardly deterred them. Then Roger and Tamba silently leapt forward from their dark nook behind the smaller tower, and fell on the enemy with the native swords. The sound of their blows could be easily heard at first, but in a minute the air was filled with shrieks and cries, while a hoarse roar came from the streets below. Three men fell in as many seconds to their blows, while Roger contrived to stun one of the enemy who was clambering over the obstacle, dropping him like a stone on the very top, where he hung amidst the flowers. But others followed, and soon it was clear that the rush would succeed. "They are getting too strong for us," gasped Roger, during a short pause. "We will try once more, and then if not successful we will upset the jars. When I shout, place your foot against the one before you, and push with all your strength. It will topple over, and in the confusion we will rush down upon them. Fists will then be better than swords, and I shall make use of mine just as I did before." He had hardly time for the words before the enemy came on again. Their shouts were deafening, while there was little doubt that their courage was increased by the clamour of their friends below. This time they swarmed over the huge vases of flowers, and threatened to overcome the two defenders before they could strike them down. The time for further action had arrived even sooner than Roger had anticipated, and with a shout he gave the order.